Ad vitam aeternam
by thylas
Summary: Light is tired of dying, again and again. [immortality. / eternal death-life circle. / cannot die. / Light-is-not-Kira.]


Hello everyone, it's nice to meet you. In hopes you enjoy.

Second fiction! Don't know if it's good…

I'm sorry if Light is too OOC. If you don't understand why he is like this, I guess I'll just have to explain it to you. Ask me anything, it's alright (it's not like I bite).

I can't speak Latin. Ad Vitam Aeternam is used in my own language, so technically, I don't need to speak Latin to know what it means. If I remember correctly, it's something like: to the eternal life. (Horrible translation from my own language to English… And to say that I'm studying to become a translator. I should train some more.)

So, I don't know if this concept has been used for the DN fandom, but since I _love_ those types of stories, I thought _why not?_ and so I did it. I think I will write some stories like that with a main character that can't die.

Review, favorite, follow, or just come back again if you like it. Of course, it would be nice if I had feedback.

* * *

immortality. / eternal death-life circle. / cannot die. / Light-is-not-Kira.

* * *

 **Ad Vitam Aeternam**

* * *

 **Chapter one:  
Childhood**

* * *

 **July 23, 1992.**

"Oh, Sachiko-san? And is that Sayu-chan and Light-kun?" The woman smiled, not letting go of her son's hand. "It's been a long time since I've seen any of you. How have you been?" Sachiko smiled as well. Since Light and Sayu had arrived, she didn't have much time to speak to her old friends.

A small boy – who looked to be between Sayu and Light's age – giggled over nothing. Sachiko looked at him. "Is this your son?" she asked. The woman beamed in pride, she nodded. While the two women talked about their children – pride coating their voices – the boy, whose name was Takeshi struggled in his mother's grip. Noticing that he was getting excited, the women decided to go to a nearby playground.

"Light," Sachiko called as soon as they arrived, "can you take care of Takeshi-kun and Sayu while we talk?" Light nodded mutely, smiling at the foreign woman when she looked at him. The two younger children didn't bother listening, running to the other children playing there. Light followed, not letting go of the large book in his hands; at least he had something to occupy his time.

He sat down on the swing, keeping his sister and the other boy in sight, and removing his jacket. The children were playing soccer with an old rusty ball. Light would have joined them if it was another day, but right now, he was more interested in his book. It was about biology, and lately Light had been getting more and more interested in science.

Almost smiling in contentment, he opened at the page where he had left his bookmark – of course, he still remembered the page, but it was just in case he forgot; which would not happen.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by someone calling him. "Nii-chan!" Light glanced up, Sayu was looking at him. "Can you get the ball please?" Light looked around, searching for a ball. He nodded as soon as he saw it. He laid his book down, next to his jacket, and rushed to get the ball.

He admitted, he hadn't been careful enough, but this was a zone where children – naïve and innocent as they were – ran across the road without paying attention to vehicles passing by. He thought he would be safe no matter what. He guessed he had to learn the hard way that things wouldn't always go his way.

Light didn't bother looking at the corner, knowing that if there actually was a car, he would hear it. He ran across the road and picked up the ball. As he was about to go back, a dim light caught his eye. He turned his head toward it, eyes widening as his breath got stuck in his throat. Adrenaline suddenly began pumping through his veins.

Light heard the bells ringing before the pain came.

His head hit the ground, splashing the red liquid on his clothes. Dully, he watched the car drive away, not even stopping to see what had happened to the poor little boy that had been propelled against the wall, unmoving.

The bells continued to ring even after his consciousness faded.

* * *

Light's eyelids fluttered open. His dizzy gaze fell on the cloudless sky, still not fully comprehending his current situation. He blinked, and blinked again. Finally, he breathed in… and remembered.

He lurched forward violently, holding his stomach as his face gradually became greener and greener. He wanted to puke; he still felt – faintly – his bones move and his skin wrap around his wounds as he bled out on the road, dying; and nobody had helped him – no one, not the driver, and not even the witnesses.

Weakly, he pushed himself up, his arms and legs trembling from the effort. He screwed his eyes shut, feeling incredibly faint and fragile, as his whole body swayed. He helped himself up with the wall – which was stained in his blood –, and took a few steps forward. He was obviously still in shock over his recent accident, and even if he wasn't, he didn't have enough strength to react properly.

Light looked around, surprised to see that the ball had disappeared, and that he could hear cries of joy from the park behind him. Had the children came to take the ball and _completely ignored him_? (Light was quickly losing faith in empathy – and charity in general.) Light didn't even try to appear angry (or desperate), instead, he calmly walked back to the park, taking his book and jacket, and quickly disappeared inside a toilet. Before he entered, he checked for his sister, glad to see her laugh along her new friends.

He arranged his hair as to hide the blood on the back of his head – where he had hit the wall –, and shrugged his jacket on, to hide the stains on his shirt. Distractedly, he sighed as he realized it was his newest shirt and that he already had to throw it away, he was sure his mother wouldn't be pleased – if she ever realized.

When he was sure no one would notice the bloodstains, he walked out, sat down at the same place he had been before, and acted as though nothing ever happened.

* * *

"Light-kun is a very good boy, isn't he?" the woman gushed, smiling down at him. "And Sayu-chan is a beautiful little girl," she continued, effectively making Sayu blush.

Sachiko nodded. The two women chatted a little more, and waved to each other when the two families parted away.

"So Sayu, Light, did you enjoy spending time with Takeshi-kun?" Sachiko asked her children, desperate to end the awkward atmosphere – mostly coming from her son, who looked faint. Sayu looked up at her, giggling and explaining in details her new friendship with Takeshi. Sachiko pretended paying her attention, when in fact, she was concentrated on her son.

Light hadn't even twitched when she had talked, as if he hadn't even heard her. He was looking down, his face apathetic.

Sachiko was growing worried over her son. Had something happened to him?

* * *

 **August 5, 1994.**

"Yes, yes, of course, Snake. I'll bring it tomorrow. The cops won't even realize."

Light froze, his hand halfway through opening the door. Had he heard right? From what his father had told him, Snake was the name of a famous yakuza boss. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but Hiroshi Youta had always acted suspiciously, especially when it was a matter of gangs causing troubles.

"Sure, boss. I'll make sure of it."

Hearing the conversation end, Light tried to silently walk away from the slightly open door. It was just his luck that the door cringed – opened by the strong wind. Light winced, waited a little to see if Hiroshi would come out or not, and stepped back as he heard footsteps come forward. He didn't move anymore, knowing that even if he tried to not make any noise, Hiroshi would still hear him. He could only pray he didn't try opening the door entirely.

Once again, it was _just his luck_ that Hiroshi did open the door.

"You…" the man hissed as his large hand fell on Light's head. "You heard everything, didn't you?" He didn't wait for Light's answer. His grip tightened. Light bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. "I can't let you say anything, brat." Hiroshi's face suddenly gained a dark smirk.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?"

He entered the room again, his hand still crushing Light's skull ad he dragged him along. He pushed him down when they reached the sink, quickly filling it with water under Light's horrified eyes – he had understood what was about to happen.

The bells began ringing.

Hiroshi's left hand – still holding his head – dragged him in front of the sink. A maniacal laugh resonated through the little room as Light's face was pushed in the water. He didn't bother struggling, knowing that it wouldn't help him, and would only make the torture longer.

Light was tired of dying, again and again.

* * *

Light woke up with a start, lurching forward as water forcefully got out of his throat (and lungs). He didn't know how long he stayed there, coughing out every single drop of water, but when he finished, it was already time for him to go back home.

He got up and looked around, reassured that there wasn't any trace of Hiroshi. Still, it was a wonder why Hiroshi thought it was a good idea to leave a dead child in his house, where everyone could see. Well, in the end, it didn't matter much.

Light opened the drawers of Hiroshi's desk, determined to put the man in jail for what he had done. (Even if Light hadn't really died, Hiroshi had still tried to kill him. Light couldn't forgive that.) He grinned as he saw some false documents – they weren't finished –, and some traces of drugs. It wasn't enough yet, but it could lead to an investigation, and later on, to the apprehension of Hiroshi.

Light was sure that the man would lose it as soon as he was accused of keeping drugs in his house.

* * *

"Curse you all! Damn cops!"

Soichiro watched sadly as his "comrade" was dragged into the police car. He never would have thought that Hiroshi was a yakuza in hiding. He never suspected anything – in was in times like this that Soichiro wondered if he really was a good policeman.

"That damn boy…" he heard the man hiss. "Ah! Soichiro," said man glanced up, almost flinching at the dark, menacing look on the man's face. "How is your boy doing? I hope he's not too afraid of water!" He jeered a last time, before his head was pushed into the car and the door slammed close.

Soichiro didn't let his confusion show. He grabbed his phone, muttering an excuse to get out of the room, and called his wife.

"Soichiro?" She greeted him back – and he could hear the smile in her voice. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Could you tell me where Light is?" He tried to keep the worry out of his voice. "I need to speak to him."

"Oh, of course." He heard some shuffling – no doubts it was Sachiko getting up. "Light! Light!" Soichiro's heart began beating more rapidly, and he was afraid it would jump out of his ribcage.

"Father?"

Soichiro breathed out in relief, glad to hear his son's voice so light and innocent. "Light," he began gravely, "did Hiroshi do anything to you?" Once again, his heartbeat quickened. "You know you can tell me anything."

"Hiroshi-san?" Light's voice echoed. "No, he didn't do anything." There was a beat of silence. "Why? Did something happen?"

Soichiro hesitated. "No," he replied quietly. "Nothing." Before Light could reply, Soichiro hung up.

* * *

 **May 25, 1995.**

Light sighed, looking outside the window without paying attention to the teacher. He was the best student of the whole school, they couldn't reproach anything to him. (Of course, he couldn't abuse of his status, but once or twice in the year couldn't do any bad.) If it was any other day, he would pay attention, but today, it was especially boring – more than usual.

He laid his head on his hand, promptly stopping the act of paying attention, and looked at the people walking in the streets. His mind wandered to his current preoccupation; his repetitive deaths. Even after all those years – had it really been three years since his first death? – he still had no logical solution. Of course, he could always say that it was something like chance or magic, but he wasn't satisfied with those answers.

Light closed his eyes, annoyance flaring inside of his chest, and breathed deeply.

As he was about to open his eyes again, the ground under him rumbled, and a murmur of shocked silence fell through the classroom. He opened his eyes in surprise, looking beneath him. Another rumble, and finally, he realized what was happening.

There was an earthquake.

Light didn't get the time to voice out his discovery, as another, louder, rumble came. The ground split under them, swallowing them whole inside its pitch black darkness.

The last thing he heard was the bell, singing through the cries of pain.

* * *

 **May 26, 1995.**

Eyelids fluttered open. Light groaned in pain as he waited for his eyes to adjust. He couldn't remember... Where was he? He could remember a loud rumble, along with cries of panic. He could remember looking up, watching silently as the roof fell on top of him and students rushed to get to safety. He could remember falling down and not getting up.

He could remember falling unconscious.

Light blinked, trying to exit the daze he was in. His eyes gradually got used to the darkness around him, and he looked around. He couldn't see much. He noticed that the bits and bits of wall and other furniture were full of dust. The earthquake had been particularly violent.

He tried to move, only to groan as something in his stomach shifted painfully. He looked down. His breath was cut short.

A metal bar was going through his body.

Through his body.

A metal bar.

Blood.

Death.

He blanched, his eyes going wide. He thought fast; if he got it out, it would kill him, but if he didn't he would get an infection that would possibly stay forever in his body. He preferred dying. He knew that, in the end, he would wake up again.

Involuntary, Light shifted, groaning in pain as the bar shifted along with his body. He looked down again. Blood had started coming out again. The puddle of blood was growing larger and larger.

He had to get it out, _now_.

Light felt horror wash over him as his hands slipped on the blood. His face contorted, and he gripped the metal bar. Slowly, he tried to extract from his body. His knuckles became white with pressure, his hands began to hurt and his head swayed more dangerously, but he didn't stop.

Suddenly, he gasped. He had felt the hard metal touch something inside of him. He didn't know what, but he could tell that it hurt. He swallowed down his nervousness, stopping his actions for an instant. He took a deep breath in – it felt like the air was also coming through the dark and bloody hole in his stomach – and continued.

Light could hear the bells ringing; he was about to die. He didn't stop though, determined to get the metal bar out.

Just as he did, breathing a last puff of air, blackness washed over his consciousness again.

* * *

 **May 29, 1995.**

Light woke up, but didn't move. He could still feel phantom pain in his chest, where he had been pierced. He was tired, and it felt like salt had been poured over his wounds. He could feel some of his limbs twitch without his accord, rubbing against something soft. He inwardly frowned, wondering where he was.

He heard someone sigh at his side, a tired sigh. He struggled to open his eyes, curious about who had been able to reach him through the ruins of the fallen school.

He blinked in surprise as his father came in view. He tried to call him, but only a shaky breath came out. Soichiro noticed.

"Light! You're awake," he stood up, glancing back at Light once he reached the door. "I'll get the doctors."

Light didn't bother nodding, knowing that he couldn't move a muscle. Maybe it was because of the blood loss, or maybe he had starved, but he felt weaker than usual (the usual being the afterwards of his numerous deaths).

He stared at the ceiling, its bright white causing him to blink.

He was so tired.

He didn't want to die anymore.

He wanted it to end.

* * *

 **January 4, 1997.**

"Daisuke?"

Light turned around, feeling that the woman was addressing him. He had barely heard the whisper because of the loud rain hitting on his umbrella.

"Daisuke? Is that you?" Slowly, a grin formed itself on her sickly-white face. "Oh," she gushed. "I'm so glad you came back." She walked to his side, reaching to caress him. "Let's go home now, okay? Mama will take care of you."

Light stepped away from her touch. "I'm sorry Ma'am, but I think you're mistaking me for someone else." Seeing her incredulous face, he continued. "My name is Light, not Daisuke."

"Oh," her hand fell down. A few seconds passed, her grin disappearing, before it suddenly formed again. "Ahahah, you are such a joker Daisuke. As if I wasn't able to recognize my own child."

Light inwardly frowned. "My name is Light, not Daisuke," he insisted.

The woman twitched, letting her face be shadowed by her dark hair. As she raised her head – her eyes showing a dark rage –, Light flinched back. "Liar," she snarled. Out of nowhere, a knife appeared in her hands. "Liar, liar… Liar!"

She slashed at him, ruining his clothes. The umbrella fell. Blood sipped through the wound. The bells began ringing. Light's eyes grew wide in horror and pain. "Ma'am…" he tried to reason, but she didn't listen to him.

She slashed again, and this time, she didn't miss.

Light felt incredibly weak, his legs shaking under him as he struggled to breathe. He could feel a liquid pour out of his neck; blood. He finally understood, the woman had slit his throat.

Light fell forward, his face hitting the hard, cold and wet ground.

* * *

Light woke up with a gasp, and he immediately grasped his neck, thankful to feel the smooth texture of skin. He got up, flinching away as he saw that the woman was laid down in front of him. The blood that had seeped out of his injuries had disappeared, going away with the rain.

He looked down at the woman, checking twice that she was unconscious, and rushed to a telephone booth. He called the police, anonymously telling them about the mad woman.

Looking at his stained clothes, Light sighed. He hoped his mother wouldn't get angry at him. He knew that she hated throwing away new clothes just because of stains that wouldn't go away.

Really, it was just his luck that he fell on a mad woman.

* * *

 **September 1, 1997.**

"Take that!" The student kicked again.

Light groaned in pain, not even trying to block the kicks from reaching his flesh. He knew it was useless, and even if he tried, he couldn't do it. He was too tired, in a daze of sharp pain. His vision was slowly darkening as blood continued to pool all around him.

The bells had begun ringing a long time ago.

"You damn… I'm sure you think that you're better than anyone else, right?!" Hate was laced to the student's voice. "Bastard! You're worth nothing!" His harsh words didn't reach Light's heart; he knew that they were wrong. He wasn't someone bad. He didn't think he was better than the others.

No, he wasn't the best, he was the worse.

A violent kick landed on his head. His last sight was the student's panicked face.

* * *

Light groaned, getting up from his painful position on the cold ground. Rubbing off the traces of dirt on his clothes, he calmly walked out of the dark alley he was in.

He just had to get home and change his clothes before his parents could see him like that.

As he walked – keeping an eye out for anyone, may they see the blood on his clothes –, he wondered why the student had attacked him. Was it jealousy? He had never thought someone so young – barely nine years old! – would be so violent. He had gone as far as killing him. Though… Light was sure the boy had been so blinded by his rage, his jealousy, that he had lost sight of what he was doing, and hadn't notice that he was dying.

Light hoped it was as he thought. If it wasn't, the world was more rotted than he ever thought it was.

He soon arrived at his house.

Light quietly closed the door as he entered. Carefully, he took a few steps. He didn't make any sound. He took off his shoes – having rubbed off the blood on it before coming home –, and placed them next to his mother's.

Still silent, he walked upstairs, glancing back twice to check that no one had heard him come home. He entered his room, and, as soon as the door closed behind him, breathed out. Not wasting any time, he rushed to change his bloodied clothes. As soon as it was done, he grabbed his schoolbag again, and exited his room.

He quietly got back to the entrance. He opened and closed the door loudly, calling a loud "I'm home" to make it sound as if he had just arrived – with clean, stainless clothes ad no injury.

"Welcome home," his mother greeted back, taking a glance at him from the living room. She smiled. "You're later than usual. Did something happen?"

Light offered her a gentle smile – glad that his mother worried about him. "Nothing important," he lied smoothly. "A friend of mine wanted me to sleep at his." Seeing her worried look, he reassured her. "I refused, of course."

Sachiko nodded, and before she could add anything else, Sayu arrived.

"Hello Nii-chan!" she greeted. Her bright smile almost blinded Light. He returned it, and quietly made his way to his room.

He could still feel blood on his skin, and it made him uncomfortable.

No need to worry his family about unimportant things like that.

He didn't need any help.


End file.
